


Things Dan Must Do To Make Phil Happy

by ahlohomora



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-it Notes, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahlohomora/pseuds/ahlohomora
Summary: Phil's got a broken leg and a handy little notepad.





	

It was a gift from a fan. Didn’t even come with a note or anything, just a sticker that said ”Feel better soon!”. And Phil hadn’t been able to stop giggling over it ever since he first skimmed through it, so naturally, he had to try it, didn’t he? For science. And since he had a broken leg, poor Dan would just have to deal. 

 

”Dan?”

”What”, Dan shouts from the living room.

”Come here for a sec?”

Thirty seconds later Dan shows up in his doorway, peering suspiciously at his crippled best friend. He can’t _not_ respond to Phil’s every request now, since Phil’s wearing a cast from the ankle to his mid thigh, a thick, white cocoon of itchy stiffness that makes his life ten times more difficult. Doesn’t mean Dan trusts him, though. Phil supposes he’s got reason to. 

”What do you need?” He asks, still trying to figure out if Phil actually needs help or if he's just incredibly bored. Poor, unknowing Dan.

”Here.” Phil holds up the green note. Dan takes it, clearly confused about what’s going on. 

”What the… _Things you must do to make me happy…_ ”, he reads, frowning down at the piece of paper. ”… _immediately._ Phil, what the fuck is this, are you actually serious.”

”I am”, Phil replies. Dead serious. He’s ticked in all the boxes that Dan absolutely needs to do immediately. 

”You’ve ticked in _Take care of me._ Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the past entire week?” Phil shrugs. OK. Dan maybe has a point here. ” _Read to me._ You aren’t serious, are you?” 

”I am!” Phil repeats, earnestly. ”I’m injured and I’m asking nicely.” 

”You’ve added _Or else_ at the bottom”, Dan points out. 

”Pretty please?” 

Dan rolls his eyes. 

” _Fine._ I’ll read to you. But I won’t _Climb a tree, Buy_ you _something_ or _Feed_ you _grapes._ ” 

Phil finally bursts into laughter at the last one, feeling very pleased with himself.

”Pretty please?” He tries again, trying and failing to keep a straight face. Over by the end of his bed, Dan’s muttering under his breath about less pleasant things he could be feeding Phil.  

 

\---

 

The next note is innocently slid over the breakfast table, so its corner pokes at Dan’s hand. 

”Stop, don’t, I’m playing Rolling Sky.”

”Daaaaan.”

He looks up, annoyed. Phil is secretly pleased — Dan’s high score streak needed to be stopped anyway. 

”Oh not the bloody notes again… how many of these have you even got?”

” _A lot_.” He hasn’t counted them, but he _has_ counted on using up as many as he can possibly get away with while he’s still got a broken leg. 

”Ugh, great. Okay… _Use a fork_? Like, right now? I’m having cereal?”

Phil snickers at the real confusion on Dan’s face. 

”Okay, that one wasn’t serious”, he admits. ”But the next one kinda is.”

” _Bring_ you _flowers?_ What do you even need flowers for?” 

He pouts a little, looking forlornly down at his own bowl of cereal. 

”They smell nice. And the bouquet my mum sent has died.”

”It’s because you didn’t put it in water, you absolute spork.”

”I’m _wounded_.” 

Dan stares at him for a few moments, before he gives in. (Actually a lot sooner than Phil had thought. Yay!) 

”Fine. _Fine_. But only because you’re so helpless and pathetic.”

 

He even puts them in water for Phil, putting them in a vase on his bedside table with a ”I can’t believe I’m putting up with you”-look. Then he glances at the note Phil hands up for him to read.

_Smell the roses._

Dan obeys. Phil’s very pleased with himself.

 

\---

 

Truth is, he can walk. It’s just really difficult to coordinate one healthy leg, one broken leg, and two crutches he’s completely unused to all at once. Add that to his terrible sense of balance (which caused him to break his leg in the first place! How is this _even_ fair!) and general clumsiness and you’ll have a new disaster waiting to happen. Phil is _at least_ 97% sure that by the time left leg has healed, he’ll have broken several other. 

The stairs in the building are, of course, a bloody nightmare but Dan’s dragging him outside ”to get some vitamin D” anyway. And okay, it is nice to feel the pale rays of October sun on his skin. The air is chilly but not terribly so, and the sky is unusually clear. They slowly make their way down the street, take a right and head towards the green triangle of grass and a few trees that they still keep referring to as the _park_. It has a statue and a couple of benches, though, and they quietly sit there for a little while, watching the traffic flow by. 

Later Dan excuses himself and disappears for a little while with a promise of being right back, which he then is with two venti pumpkin spice lattes in his hands.

”Don’t get used to this”, he warns him, and Phil just shakes his head because he already is. 

 

\---

 

”Aren’t we greedy today, huh?” Dan snorts and waves another green note in the air, the one that Phil left on the kitchen counter before Dan woke up. 

”Good morning”, he greets cheerily. He’s had a great cup of coffee, he had a proper shower last night (with the help of Dan, and it should probably have been terribly awkward — or if he’s to believe the fanfics, lead into some kind of weird out-of-the-blue shower sex — but it hadn’t been, it’d been fine). He’s in a good mood. 

”I’m not gonna _Massage_ your _ego_ ”, Dan continues, rolling his eyes. ”It’s your leg that’s broken, not your god damn self esteem.”  
Phil limps towards him, feeling like he’s taking up twice as much space now with the crutches in the small kitchen. Dan’s backing up against the counter — probably the sensible thing to do. 

”Come on. I’m bored. You know when you don’t have access to wifi, how you’re consumed by how desperately need it? That’s me with going outside now. I want to go shopping for stuff. I want to go to every Starbucks in London. I want to go visit someone. I want to see a dog!”

Dan’s eyes soften ever so slightly. 

”I care too much about you, it’s fucking annoying”, he mutters, folding the note in his hands. ”Fine. Won’t massage your ego but I’ll do the other things.”

And that’s how they end up on the sofa, Phil propped up against Dan, getting his scalp gently scratched by Dan’s short fingernails, after having won a grand total of five rounds of Mario Kart.

 

\---

 

The following notes aren’t as explicit. When Dan does another liveshow wearing the Winnie the Pooh-onesie, Phil texts him a photo zoomed in on the line saying _Get some taste._ (Dan has to actually duck his head out of shot to hide his reaction to it, having a little bit of a struggle explaining to the chat why he reacted the way he did to a text from Phil). A few days later when he’s going on and on about all the injustices in the world, the green note suggests he _Calm down._ He also gets a _Be yourself_ for good measure, which Phil then finds lying on Dan’s bedside table. He doesn’t ask Dan about it, but it makes him warm inside whenever he thinks about it. 

 

—- 

 

It’s October 31st and Philly ain’t going nowhere with this leg, so he and Dan are sprawled out on the sofa in the pitch dark apartment, watching some Penny Dreadful. It’s not the worst way to spend the night of Halloween, Phil thinks. He remembers back in like, 2010, when they’d watched a freaky Spanish horror movie that’d kept them both awake until they realized neither of them could sleep so they huddled together on Phil’s bed and watched silly cat videos until dawn. 

 

”Have you finally run out of notes?” Dan asks casually, like he doesn’t care either way. Phil genuinely suspects Dan’s finding them as much fun as he is. 

 

”Nope. They’re in my room, just can’t be bothered to get up.” Getting up from the sofa in this condition is the worst so clearly the only solution is to stay right where he is and get Dan to fetch stuff for him (a strategy that sometimes works, sometimes not). ”Sooo do you want to go get it for me? Please?”

”You lazy— where did you even get it from?” 

”A fan sent it to me.”

Dan rolls his eyes, locking his phone with a click, just to light the screen again by tapping the home button. Repeats it a few times. 

”Alright then… but since you haven’t given me a note today, I am giving _you_ one.” He pushes himself up from the sofa crease and trots away to fetch the notepad, returning with a sly grin on his face.

”Dan please, I can’t walk.”

Dan scoffs at him. 

”Phil please. Stop being so fucking lazy.”

They sit in silence, Phil actually paying attention to the episode, Dan reading the notes carefully and occasionally doing markings with a pen. 

”There we go”, he declares a couple of minutes later. Phil sighs, and reaches out a hand to accept the doom.

” _Don’t call me that_. Call you what?” 

”You called me ’Danny’ again earlier”, he clarifies. ”It just sounds ridiculous and it’ll never suit me and I hate it.”

”You love it, Danny H”, Phil laughs. ”Okay, if it bothers you that much, I’ll try to stop. Mass— er. _Massage my body_? Wh… euh…”

”What! God, no. I meant to tick in _Get a makeover_. AKA, pull yourself out of this state of feeling sorry for yourself and moping around and making me go get stuff for you”, Dan splutters, looking a bit flustered as he snatches the note back from Phil to double check his markings. Phil just shoves at him, only a little embarrassed because he thought Dan might’ve been serious. And, well. 

”I _could_ give you a backrub if you _want_ ”, Phil offers with a small laugh. ”Don’t worry, mate.”

”These are all very couple-y, aren’t they”, Dan remarks a little grimly. ”Anyway, yeah, if— if you want to? Cause… I could use it, to be honest.”

Phil motions for him to shift until he’s got his back towards Dan. At this point he’s lost (most) interest in the episode anyway, but it continues to play in the background as Phil awkwardly rubs down on his flatmate’s stiff shoulders, not quite sure how to go about it.

”Come _on_. Harder. I’m not made of glass.” 

Phil cracks up at the awful innuendo and in front of him, Dan immediately covers his face with his hands. 

”I want to actually die”, he whines, voice muffled. Phil stifles another giggle as he gets a little less careful with the pressure and rubs down on Dan’s shoulder blades, finding a spot that makes Dan wince. ”Ah, right there — I mean, that’s good, I appreciate this, and I’m going to shut the _fuck_ up now.”

Phil just bites his tongue to refrain from laughing and keeps on kneading.

 

\---

 

” _Put your arms around me_?” 

”I desperately need a hug.”

Dan gives him one of those fond ”I’m so done with you, Phil Lester”-looks, and shakes his head lightly. 

”You didn’t really have to waste a note on that”, he says as he reaches out and takes Phil in his arms. Phil nuzzles closer, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and burying his head in the crook of Dan’s neck. 

”S’not a waste of a note”, he murmurs.

 

Now the thing is that they do hug, every now and then. There’s hello hugs and goodbye hugs, you edited the entire gaming video oh my god thank you-hugs, we’ve had too many drinks tonight and feeling particularly clingy-hugs and you look sad I should cheer you up-hugs. 

But, there’s always a reason. Sometimes Phil wishes he and Dan had the kind of relationship where he could just hug his best friend for no reason, because… because hugs are nice. And Dan is so warm and solid and always hugs Phil like he really mean it, so that’s nice, too. 

They stay like that, until the slightly awkward ”this-hug-has-been-going-on-for-too-long”-moment has passed and they relax in each other’s arms, accustomed to the feeling of limbs being pressed against each other and having the other person breathing so close. Phil thinks he can even feel Dan’s heart beats if he listens closely. 

”What made you need a hug so bad?” Dan asks softly, absent-mindedly running his fingertips over Phil’s back. Friendly. 

”Dunno. Just. Cravings?” Phil hums. ”You’re so huggable.”

”Is that a compliment, or…” 

”Yeah.”

Dan huffs out a laugh, and Phil can feel it vibrate in his chest. He sighs, tightening his grip, soaking up the feeling of affection. 

 

\---

 

 

They have had periods over the years where they’ve been extra physical with each other and Phil thinks about that sometimes. The beginning was the worst, Phil couldn’t keep his hands off his irresistible new best friend, with the brown eyes and timid body language. He figured that if he hugged Dan enough Dan would realize that it’d be okay for him to give hugs back, that Phil’s just a really physical person who isn’t weirded out by lots of touching and who thinks platonic cuddling is great. Dan caught on pretty quickly, and so they just… lay close together on Phil’s bed and Dan grabbed his hand sometimes to show him something when they were out and Phil kept resting his head on Dan’s shoulders during movies. That was more physical closeness than Phil had expected, but surprisingly nice and weirdly addictive so he certainly wasn’t going to complain. 

 

And when they moved in together, it changed, and Dan stayed on his side of the sofa and Phil didn’t think much of it, although he missed reaching out for Dan and getting a hug in return, instead of an eye roll and a pat on the shoulder. 

 

And they moved again, and that night Phil had drawn Dan into a hug and refused to let go until Dan stopped complaining and started hugging him back. ( _”Shut up, we just moved to London together. I’m emotional.” ”You’re the worst person ever.”)._

 

Dan resumed the physical contact after that. Touched his hair. Got up in his personal space, fell asleep on his shoulder and held his arm or hand when they watched scary things. Affectionately, addictively, and painfully platonically. 

 

\---

 

They’re sat working by the kitchen table. Dan’s writing a script for his new video, Phil is replying to business emails and trying to plan out 2017. They’re both very grateful it isn’t going be as hectic as 2016; still, there’s going to be conventions to fly out to and they’re negotiating a new contract with the BBC for a new sort of radio show. Phil’s so engrossed in the email thread he’s going through that he doesn’t notice Dan trying to get his attention from across the table.

”Philly? What’re we having for dinner?”

That’s when he remembers the note of the day, and he digs around in his pocket until he finds it. 

”Actually…” he grins, flinging the note in Dan’s direction. 

”So we’re still doing this, are we. Let me see… _Cook._ You want me to cook?”

”Yeah! I was in the mood for your Indian food.”

”Indian food in general or my Indian food specifically?”

”Specifically your Indian food.”

Dan hums the tune of a song Phil doesn't recognize, a look of contemplation on his face.

”Yeah I guess we have the stuff. Indian it is”, he confirms and Phil lets out a little celebratory cheer. 

”Is there any— what the fuck, Phil.” He doesn’t even read it out loud, just holds up the note to Phil’s face. ”In case it escaped your mind, we aren’t actually a couple. I’ll cook, okay, but I won’t _serenade_ you or _worship_ you.”

”You should”, Phil smiles. ”I may or may not have landed us a new radio show.”

 

 

Turns out you can in fact do those things as friends, if you’re feeling grateful enough. (Phil just has to promise he didn’t secretly film any of it, but he does tweet a photo of their dinner along with lots of compliments to the chef). 

 

\---

 

It’s November 16th, they’re tipsy after dinner and drinks with some of their Youtube colleagues and they’re playing Mario Kart when Phil, out of literally nowhere, says: ”We should use prompts from the green notes in this year’s PINOF video”. 

Dan deems it the worst fucking idea Phil’s ever had in his entire life, then goes to set up the lightning and camera in Phil’s bedroom.

 

\---

 

They press the record button and soon realize two things. One, the fans aren’t going to forgive them for not using _their_ questions and prompts. Two, this is the worst idea Phil’s ever had in his entire life. 

Oh well, they already knew that. And it’s not like they _have_ to use this footage anyway. 

”Let’s take turns to request things, going in order. No cheating.” 

”Are you sure this is a —”

”— bad idea? Yeah, positive. Let’s do it.” Dan’s eyes are sparkling with mischief and Phil doesn’t have the heart to ruin this for him. He looks so bubbly and giggly that it’s hard to even look away.

” _Grow up.”_

”Nope”, Dan replies. ”No can do. _Divorce your parents_.”

”I don’t want to do that! I love them too much.”

”True. I love your parents too, actually.”

” _Consider everybody else.”_

”What’s that supposed to mean?” 

”I dunno, maybe that’s for when you’re being really selfish.”

Dan hums. 

”Do you think I’m selfish?” 

Phil studies him for a bit. 

”No, Dan”, he eventually replies, a gentleness in his voice that hasn’t been there before. 

”I feel selfish sometimes”, Dan frowns. ”But… yeah. Trying not to be, you know. Er. _Sing me love songs._ Actually please don’t.”

Phil bites his lips, racking his brain for a good one. 

_”Why can’t I hold you in the streets, why can’t I kiss you on the daaaance floooooor… I WISH THAT IT COULD BE LIKE THAT, WHY CAN’T IT BE LIKE THAT, CAUSE I’M YOUUUUUUUUURS—”_

”PHIL PLEASE! SHUT! UP!” Dan yells, doubling over from laughing so hard. ”I TOLD YOU YOU WEREN’T ALLOWED TO SING THAT SONG EVER AGAIN!”

 ” _I_ think I’m doing it justice!” Phil yells back.

”YOU’RE NOT!” Dan screams back and neither of them know why they’re being so loud but it’s hilarious and Phil still can’t sing like Little Mix and they both know it.

”You’re hurting my feelings!” he complains, and it takes a good fifteen minutes until they’re collected enough to be able to carry on. Phil’s cheeks hurt from grinning so wide. 

”Your next one, Dan, is to _turn off the lights_.”

”That’s inconvenient”, Dan snickers, but bounces off the bed and turns off the ceiling lamp so the only source of light is the bright camera lamp.

”Oooh, spooky… Okay- haha. Eh. _Turn me on._ ” Hopefully the dimmed light makes it a little harder for Dan and the camera to see that he’s actually blushing at that.

Dan just flashes him a cheeky grin.

”Oh, Philly.” He keeps eye contact as he slides his hand up Phil’s leg and while his heart nervously speeds up, not knowing at all how to handle this, all his brain can think about is Dan snuggled up against him under a blanket, Dan’s shoulders relaxing under his touch, Dan’s cool, smooth fingertips ghosting over his hair or cheek or palm. He bites his lower lips, trying desperately to push the mental images out of his head, but it’s hard when Dan’s leaning towards him with parted lips and big, brown eyes framed by unfairly thick eyelashes. His breath smells faintly of alcohol, and Phil wishes his body wouldn’t betray him like this. 

”Mmmmh, Phil”, Dan half-moans, barely able to contain his smile. ”If there’s anything fanfics has taught me it should be what turns you on.” 

That’s when Phil swats his hand away and inches back, quickly hiding his face in his hands. 

He’s not sure what the fuck is going on anymore, but he knows that way too big a part of him didn’t want Dan to _stop_. He plays it off as if he’s laughing and is being generally done with his friend. 

”Hey, Philly, I’m joking, okay?” Dan laughs. He seems to have forgotten about the camera completely. ”Phil?” And there they are again, gentle hands, reaching for Phil’s and lowering them until their eyes can meet again.

”Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he says, and by now he actually looks a little concerned.

”I’m not, don’t worry”, Phil rushes out. Keeping his hands in Dan’s. ”I just didn’t expect that, I was a little shocked. Also, you’re drunk.”

Dan smiles brightly at him.

”Yeah. Isn’t that great? Are you drunk?”

”A bit.” Probably not as drunk as Dan.

”Boring. You should have more wine. We have wine, don’t we?”

”Yeah.”

”Well go get some, then.”

That’s when Dan realizes the camera is still rolling, and goes to turn it off. 

”We aren’t gonna be able to use any of this, I don’t know what I was thinking”, he says as they make their way over to the kitchen. 

”Everyone’s gonna be able to tell you’re drunk”, Phil agrees. He knows they shouldn’t, but he also knows that life is short and wine is good and Dan is being particularly touchy tonight, so he is opening that other bottle of white wine.

They pour it into the less fancy wine glasses they own and return to Phil’s bed, because that’s a good a place as any for getting intoxicated. They chat about PINOF, about Christmas videos for the gaming channel, which turns into conversations about 2017 and the future and Phil puts on some music that plays low in the background. 

When they’re halfway through the wine bottle, Dan reaches for the ominous green note again. 

” _Turn yourself on._ ”

Phil swallows hard, mental images popping up in his head of him doing… stuff, with Dan there watching, and just the thought of _that_ turns him on. Is that normal? It can’t be normal.

”Are you kidding”, he mutters, partly to Dan and partly to his brain.

”No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turned on”, Dan muses. ”I mean you’ve seen me making out with, like, several people, and I haven’t even seen you _flirt._ ”

 _Oh, you have,_ Phil thinks, _I think flirting with you is all I do. Not my fault I’m shit at it._

”Jesus. I don’t know.” He rubs his face, hoping he’s not looking as flustered as he’s feeling. ”I guess I’m just really crap at it.”

”Well, it’s a good thing then you have me to practice on!” Dan downs the last of his wine and puts the glass away. ”C’mon. Pretend I’m some pretty lad or lady.”

”You really don’t have to pretend”, Phil snorts. ”You _are_ pretty, Dan.”

He grins again, sunnily and bright.

”See! You’re already doing quite well!”

”So all I have to do is tell y— the person I’m flirting with they’re pretty? Hasn’t worked for me so far.” _But it’s earned me a few punches in the arm because you didn’t want to be pretty, you wanted to be hot._

”Then they’re blind idiots”, Dan dismisses. ”You’re, like, the best person ever in every way, anyone should want to date you.”

He can feel his entire face heat up, desperately wanting to change the subject. He glances down at the green note and reads out the next line.

” _Make 2 + 2 equal 5.”_

Dan just rolls his eyes. They’re looking a little dimmed. Still beautiful.

”You know what? I’m not even going to pretend to try. OK. _Give a damn._ I don’t think it’s necessary to tell you that, though.”

Phil shrugs. 

”Suppose not. I think I care a lot. I feel like I do.”

”Yeah, so do I.”

” _Tattoo my name on your arm._ ”

Dan leans over Phil for the sharpie that they took out but forgot to actually use. (Which maybe was for the best). He rolls up the sleeve of the black hoodie he’s wearing and writes ”PHIL <3” in bold letters, and then proudly holding it up for Phil to see.

”There we go. _Mean it._ Okay, that’s so unspecific. Just… tell me something and mean it?”

”You’re the bestest person in the world.”

Dan’s fingers ghost over his hand again, and Phil refuses to look over.

”No. I think that’d be you.”

”My next one for you is _Tell me I’m hot._ ” He busies himself with downing the remains of his wine, and then realizes that Dan was waiting for him to look at him because when he does, Dan reaches out a hand and runs it curiously over Phil’s cheek.

”You’re hot, Phil.”

”That’s just the wine talking”, Phil jokes and pokes at his best friend’s cheek. 

”It’s not! Jesus, you have to know that I think you’re hot, Phil, I kinda love everything about you.”

  
Phil’s heart is starting to behave strangely again.

Before he has a chance to reply, Dan continues the game. 

” _Kiss me_.”

 

And the thing, _the thing_ , the thing is that they have sort of shared innocent kisses in the past and God, it never _meant_ anything, yet they’re still on his mind from time to time. 

There were, of course, Manchester Eye, which they don’t talk about… then there’s conventions where they’ve gotten way too drunk, or home parties at their friends’ and stupid rounds of truth or dare, and that one time when Dan came home really late and refused to tell Phil where he’d been and just, sort of, kissed him really tenderly in the hallway and acted like it never happened afterwards. But there were always a reason.

 

Here and now, Phil doesn’t hesitate. One look into the brilliant eyes that he feels like he knows better than his own and his mouth is on Dan’s, one hand cupping his cheek.

Dan kisses back like he knew it was coming. He kisses sincerely and with confidence, making Phil’s knees weaken and taking his breath away, which Phil always thought was a figure of speech, huh, turns out it was not. 

 

Now Phil’s not very graceful, and the heavy cast on his left leg isn’t helping, but he kind of lies back and drags Dan down on top of him and relishes in the feeling of being pressed down into the mattress by the weight of another person’s body. Dan nestles between his legs, kissing him throughoutly and while Phil’s mind goes blank his mouth just goes along with it, kissing back, and it feels right. 

They lay like that, making out lazily, unhurriedly, and Dan lets out little sighs that makes Phil want to shudder. He pushes one hand into the hair by the base of Dan’s neck and lets the other one rest on his lower back. 

 

Dan withdraws a few centimeters, leans down to press a kiss to Phil’s chin, looking him in the eyes. 

”This okay?” He whispers. Dan’s soft voice tugs at Phil’s heartstrings. He smiles up at the face — a face that used to appear blurry and small in a window on his laptop screen. A face he had to go weeks without seeing in real life, because they just lived too far apart. A face he’s memorized over, and over, and over again and a pair of eyes he never wants to go a day without looking into. The same pair of eyes, only more mature, look dark in the dimmed light but they’re smiling down at him and this is Dan, and they are a little intoxicated but that’s fine, and Phil’s leg is broken but with Dan looking at him like this, all he's feeling like is whole.

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration: knockknockstuff.com has a notepad like this and i basically owe my life to stationery . (i own nothing except for the emotional trauma that these 2 caused me Thanks A Lot) (idk what tf this fic is i blame the baking vid it fucking traumatized me)


End file.
